The Hunger of the Love Game
by Evangeline Parker
Summary: Instead of the reaping, tributes are chosen from the prisons. Convicts are taken to the games, and volunteers from the richer districts annually dominate the sickly others. When Gale is accused of treason and sentenced to the Games, Katniss volunteers. She knew the games were awful, but she faces the greatest torture of all; true love.
1. Chapter 1

Katniss stood on the rooftop, starring out at the Capitol. The buildings were tall and shinning, freshly polished every six months, which wasted thousands of dollars while the rest of Panem rot in penury. The way they lived so care free and wasteful sickened her, tying knots inside of her shriveled stomach that was still adjusting to the processing the Capitol's food went through. They gorged themselves in the meals then went to plastic surgeons for reductions. It was impractical and idiotic. They created the problem, which in District Twelve, was considered a blessing to have a little weight above your belt.

The people of the Capitol were sick and twisted, delusional people with no other agenda then their own. It made Katniss want to scream, and for a second, she did. She belted out her cries across the sky, hearing the shrill echo as she let out all of the frustration from watching the games as a child, and seeing two of her friends from school torn to shreds by a Career or simply starving to death which was no foreign concept to them. At least they were used to the pain and torture life often brought.

But now it was her. She was the one reaped. She was the one taken and she was the one who would be faced against the others, and no matter what, no matter what the Capitol says, nobody would win. No matter the outcome there were always families who would close their curtains, lock their doors and sit in silence until the tears erupted. For some it was seconds, others it was days. Twenty three of them would die. There was no avoiding it, and everyone who ever knew any of them would cross their fingers and hope that it would be them that was crowned victor. But there were always people with tears in their eyes at the end of the game.

For a while she always thought it would be worse for a kid to die in the bloodbath, not even make it to hide. That would be awful, considering those deaths were usually the most vicious and ruthless. They also got analyzed for hours by Ceasar Flickermen. Then again, it was less time to wonder if your child was starving, cold, afraid or being chased. That person didn't have to hide or be afraid. It was just over, then and there. They could die without living like cattle, waiting for slaughter. Most kids know that when they go in, that they're just accessories to the massive plot the Capitol has laid out. They're expendable. They're easy targets. So they go into the arena and wait to die. She knew it. She was waiting for her own death.

Maybe she would be killed in the bloodbath, tackled to the ground and stabbed to death. There was a chance she would just be wounded and rot in the woods, unable to hunt, hiding in a tree until she died from the elements or a Career hunted her down.

She winced at the thought.

She could be torn apart, bit by bit,m feeling every touch as they destroyed her. If she lasted until the end, that was how it happened. Long, brutal, excruciating pain and completely unnecessary, just for the show. All of it was. Every death, every word spoken and ounce of humanity lost was all for the damn show. It was just a show to them. It wasn't lives lost. It wasn't torture or cruelty, all it was to them was a game. Just a stupid game.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Gale," I hollered out, expecting to hear his heavy footsteps shuffling the leaves. He was too tall and too heavy to travel once the leaves had fallen. "Gale!" I called again, afraid to be too loud. It was reaping day though, all of the Peacekeepers would be in the town square. "Gale!" I yelled._

_ There was no answer. I felt my heartbeat quicken like it always did when I couldn't find him. He was always getting into trouble, and I was always dragging him out of it. He couldn't afford it, not with his mom._

_ I jogged towards the line his traps ran. He always came out in the mornings. That was the best time, or so he said. I guess it was true, you could get to the Hob before anyone saw. _

_ His first trap was empty, exactly the way he had left it. It looked reset, the way it was perfectly lying on top of the leaves, normally it would have settled in by now. It was too perfect, too new. Gale had been here. But where was he now?_

_ I walked deeper into the woods, towards the lake my dad used to take me to to swim. We would always walk the trap line, I would shoot a few squirrels or birds and then we would fish and cool off on summer days when the sun scorched everything._

_ The next trap line was settled, nothing had come through, Gale had just left it. I kept walking, hoping I would see him bent over, tying up a new snare with a rabbit in his game bag. He wasn't like that though, He always waited for me. He knew better than to run off and scare me. _

_ That just wasn't Gale._

_ I realized though, when a squirrel lay to the side of a trap and his footsteps were caked in the mud along with many others, that Gale wasn't in the woods, and he wasn't alone._

_ I sprinted back to the Seam, desperate to get out of the woods. When I actually looked around I saw Peacekeeper's footsteps everywhere. They were swarming the place. I nearly ran into a clearing with six of them there, having to go the long way around. It took me nearly an hour to get back, and when I did it was too late. Gale was in shackles, on the stage, reaped. He was going to The Games._


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I'm more likely to update and put more effort into the story if I get some feedback so please review! ** (HelloMyFellowReaders101, thank you so much!)

Katniss stood at the edge of the railing and sighed. This was really it. This was her life.

When she was little she had never pictured a perfect life with a husband, kids, making dinner every night in an apron and going to Church with the kids. She knew it would be hard, there would be disappointments and some nights the dinner might be stretch thin, but this was nothing like the struggle she imagined.

As she got older and when her father died, she and Gale made a vow to take care of each other. They took responsibility for the other, no matter what. Their families always sacrificed for the other to make sure they would all be alright.

And now this. Gale was going to be left with Prim and her mother. Gale was too good of a man to not take responsibility. There would be half of the food there was before with Katniss dead, and the kids would be hungry and sick. Hazel would take up another job and work ridiculous hours. Prim wold have to go to work along with her mother. They all would. They'd probably die before winter came.

Katniss cringed at the thought.

She needed to leave. She needed to to run, not hide in fear or cry like a coward. She just needed to run. This couldn't be real. This wasn't her life. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Nothing was. First her father died, then she nearly starved to death, Gale almost got thrown into the games and instead here she was, standing on the rooftop of the building that served as a holding cage for twenty three future decapitated and brutally murdered victims, and one victor responsible for it all.

She prayed to god that for the sake of her family that in the end when the lives were lost along with humanity, that it was her crowned victor. It wasn't because she feared death, death was inviting, if anything it seemed like a nice alternative to the brutal hell she lived everyday. But she couldn't leave Prim, not someone as innocent and pure as her to fend for herself. Katniss was a sinner, a liar, convict and thief, but Prim was none of those things. Some could argue Katniss deserved to die, but along with her Prim would go to, or at least endure a torturous drawn out life that would make death tempting, and that was not what she deserved. The only problem was that life isn't about what you deserve; it's what you earn.

Katniss wasn't going to walk out of the games without blood on her hands. She would be responsible. She would be a killer, a sick twisted piece to the capitol. She wouldn't belong to them, she would be one of them.


End file.
